Texting Complications
by S-J-Watson-Holmes
Summary: As Sherlock is trying to figure out his emotions for John, he realizes he must do it how he always done things: through text message. Sherlock thinks his plan is full-proof, until John wants answers.


**Ello, there! So this a series of one-shots and we're sloooowwww when it comes to updating and writing and such... So if you do like this, please don't throw torches at us because we're slow. :} And this whole series of one-shots shall be Johnlock and involve texting... At least, we think... Alright. So, please 'Read and review'. Thanks! Hope you enjoy! Don't be tedious!  
**

**-Sherlock and John Watson-Holmes**

* * *

Sherlock paced back and forth, his hands in his classic 'thinking' position, pondering over his emotions, "Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth…" Sherlock thought. He had been eliminating his emotions for John all morning. So far he had eliminated: Hatred, Fear, Dislike, Maliciousness, Homicidal thoughts, Disgust, and Temperamental feelings. The actual feeling struck him suddenly and he sighed minutely. John came into the living room, fresh out of the shower with beads of water dripping off his face. Sherlock stopped, feeling surprisingly similar to a deer in front of a car's headlights. "The game is afoot…" He thought and strode around again. John watched Sherlock walk and just chuckled, "You're in a social mood today aren't you? You left your room!" Sherlock regarded the joke with distaste written on his face and was struck with an idea. He grabbed the woman's pink mobile and went to the conversations he and John shared through text. He typed rapidly before glancing down at the phone screen, mentally preparing himself to send it. He read it over again:

I love you.

-SH

He exhaled deeply, that would suffice. John had just opened the latest newspaper, his mobile on the small table next to him. Sherlock hit send before practically leaping to his room and locking the door behind him. "I'm, uh, going to my Mind Palace!" He cried out as he heard John's mobile go off. Sherlock stood against the door, leaning against it and trying to hear John's reaction to the text. "No you're not! You are most definitely not going to your Mind Palace this time!" John yelled to Sherlock from the outside room. He stood up and jogged to Sherlock's bedroom door. "Open, the door!" John shouted, but in good humor. "Is that an order Doctor Watson?" Sherlock called back, the smirk making it known even behind locked doors. "As a matter of fact Sherlock, it is." John said and threatened, "I was in the war. I could heave this door off its hinges right now."

"And why don't you try?" Sherlock asked and smirked to himself, assuming John would never do that and wouldn't have the psychical capability. John sighed to himself and muttered something about how Sherlock was an "insensible idiot with a deep voice and cheekbones". As Sherlock was about to start laughing, the door was thrown off its hinges and on the ground. John raised a simple eyebrow at Sherlock and Sherlock gulped nervously. "John…" Sherlock managed and started calculating distance and measures to estimate how long it would take for John to attack him. "He is exactly 3.49 feet away and being a military man can throw himself quickly. If he were to throw himself I would most likely have 0.82 seconds to brace myself for the punch. If I were to leap to the ground, he would maybe not be expecting that. Of course he would expect me going to the right, as he is left-handed, for he would think I was trying to throw him off by using his bad side. And left side would just be all too easy. So ground it is!" Instead of any leaping or punching, John shuffled forwards and leaned forward and up. "What? Wait, what? What is he doing? What?! My deductions all said tha-" Sherlock's train of thought was cut off by John gripping the back of his head and mashing their lips together. Sherlock's arms flailed behind him as he wasn't sure of what to do. He had to bend his knees slightly but otherwise it was quite appealing. As the kiss went on and on it became more heated and furtive, transforming from kiss to plain snogging session. Mrs. Hudson walked into the bedroom with a white hamper of laundry, mostly occupied by jumpers and scarves which fell to the ground. "Oh dearie me," She cried out, throwing her hands to her face and nibbling on her fingernails, "I'll just leave you boys to it then…" She walked backwards out of the room before getting to her mobile on the counter. "Gregory! I've won the bet, you owe me! I knew Sherlock would confess within this week! And I just walked in on them snogging! Yes Gregory, my eyes are perfectly fine. But I don't know if their mouths will be… You want a picture for proof?! Well I'm afraid to be so blunt but isn't that a bit perverted?! Oh I'm sorry for such an outburst. Okay, Gregory, good bye!" She hung up the mobile and smiled to herself and bustled out of the room. Meanwhile, John had just broken apart from him to gasp for breath. "Jesus Christ… How long did I hold my breath for?"

"About a minute and a half…" Sherlock chuckled. John whistled and they broke into their simultaneous laughter that so often occurred. "Well… That was…" Sherlock nodded in breathless agreement. "Wait… Oh Jesus…" John moaned. "What?" Sherlock snapped. "Mrs. Hudson… Walked in on us… SNOGGING!" John cried out.

"Well it looks like you won't need the bedroom upstairs." Sherlock replied and they both burst into laughter again. "Well I should probably go apologize to Mrs. Hudson for scarring her for life…" John chuckled. "So is that a yes or no?" Sherlock called after John's retreating form. "Yes!" John shouted back and Sherlock grinned. "Mrs. Hudson! Sorry about the incident…" John said to Mrs. Hudson after leaving the room. "Oh that's fine! I won a bet! And I was right in the first place!" Mrs. Hudson smiled warmly and John nodded his silent agreement. "Wait a minute… You were betting? On mine and Sherlock's relationship?! Who were you betting with?!"

"Oh yes dearie! It was with Gregory! Or Lestrade, whatever you call him by…"

"Well Lestrade is going to get an earful from Sherlock and me!" John stormed away and went back into Sherlock's—no wait, THEIR bedroom. "Guess who was betting on our relationship?"

"It was Detective Inspector Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson? Am I right?"

"Yeah… I should've remembered your weird psychic, detective mind…" John retorted and Sherlock chuckled in good humour. "Well… What now?" John asked.

"Well first of all, we need to start moving your stuff." Sherlock said and smiled happily.

* * *

**Fin. Because we learned that actually does mean end. Thank you alejandra arana (guest). Well. Uh. Please leave your thoughts. :} Yay! Alright. So as said before, don't be tedious! **

**-Sherlock and John Watson-Holmes  
**


End file.
